


Ladder Talks

by MoonlightShines (theklainer)



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Riverdale - Fandom
Genre: But mostly fluff, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I took that "Hey Juliet" wayyyy too seriously, In between 1x07 and 1x08, Jughead Jones is NOT ace in this fic, Jughead mentions thinking he was ace in this fic, References to Shakespeare, Two sleuths working out their feelings, bughead - Freeform, cliched I love you fic, mentions of barchie, romeo and juliet - Freeform, so i apologize in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theklainer/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: Betty opened the window and leaned over the ledge on her elbows. She quirked an eyebrow.“Is this going to become a habit?” She asked, referring to the last time Jughead snuck in. When he comforted her and kissed her and smiled so softly at her she felt the edges of her world blur.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo! My first Bughead fic!!! Hopefully the first of many! :) Posting this before tonight's episode makes this impossible to be canon...

Fred Andrews leaves a scatter of tools on his grass on the right side of his house. Among his miscellaneous equipment, there is a grey ladder propped up against the red brick that reaches right under Archie's bedroom window. When Jughead was little, he used to climb the ladder to sneak into his house at night. Not because he wouldn’t have been welcomed if he rang the doorbell, because he would have been. There was just no fun in that.  

  


This night, Jughead took the ladder and walked across the lawn. Carefully, he set the ladder against the Coopers’ house, underneath Betty Cooper’s bedroom, the pink and white room right across Archie’s blue one. With steady steps, Jughead made his way up to Betty’s windowsill. He was about to knock on the glass when a flash of blonde hair entered view through the curtains. Betty opened the window and leaned over the ledge on her elbows. She quirked an eyebrow. 

“Is this going to become a habit?” She asked, referring to the last time Jughead snuck in. When he comforted her and  _ kissed _ her and smiled so softly at her she felt the edges of her world blur. Until she remembered about the car, that is. 

  


Jughead smirked. “That depends, I don’t know if I feel like facing the wrath of the Capulets by knocking on the door every time I want to see my favourite sleuth.” 

  


“Are you calling yourself Romeo?” Betty laughed, giving Jughead a hand as pushes himself up and into her room. 

“I’d rather be Shakespeare.” 

  


He stood up so that he was right in front of her and they both gazed shyly at each other, inches apart. Betty bit her lip and reached for Jughead’s flannel shirt. He watched her as she fiddled with it, eventually doing up the buttons. “The opened window made a draft,” she mumbled, as a way of explanation when he gave her an intrigued look. “It’s cold in here.” When she finished the top button, she crooked her finger to tilt up his chin. They both smiled into the kiss, chaste and sweet. 

“Not anymore,” replied Jughead, sighing and leaning in again.

  


It’s a lightheaded feeling, bliss. So lightheaded, Jughead momentarily forgot how to use one. 

  


“Tell me you don't love Archie,” he breathed against her skin, but she goes rigid, and he let her go numbly. 

  


“What?” She said, her tone instantly cold and hard. 

  


He didn't clarify or take it back. He didn't say anything. 

  


“Why would you ask me that?” Betty said, her blue eyes bore up into his.

  


“Tell me you don't love him, Betts.” He pleaded, internally cringing at the emotion in his voice. When did he get like this? To feel passion, to feel the swell of emotion rise from within him, for his passive, iciness in his veins morph into growing heat under his skin? To  _ want _ . 

  


“I can't.”

  


“Why?” Jughead snaps, and he's angry, mostly at himself, for being stupid enough to think it could be any other way. This wasn't how it worked. He knew that. Archie was the dreamer, Betty dreamed of Archie and Jughead doesn't dream at all. But then, she’d look at him. And she’d smile, she’d beam up at him and grab onto his arm with excitement at any new lead she thought up with and he’d think maybe, just  _ maybe  _ he could dream too. 

  


“Because it would be a lie, Juggie.” Betty whispers, troubled by the subject, or maybe the volume of his voice.

  


Jughead took a further step back, burned. The temperature in the room dropped drastically, still he feels scorched all over. He imagines Betty Cooper pouring scalding hot water over his head and leaving him dripping to shiver in the puddles left behind. 

  


But his Betty would never do that. Not intentionally. She’d reach over to hand him a cup of something hot and accidentally spill it. She would apologize profusely as he shook his head and swallowed down the pain, forever left with slightly charred skin. “It’s fine,” he would say, clenching his teeth. He’d smile too. God, he's an idiot.

  


He blinks. 

  


“Does it matter?” She said. 

  


Does it? In Romeo and Juliet, nobody remembers Rosaline. What if Jughead  _ is _ Romeo, pining for Rosaline, chasing Rosaline, loving Rosaline, only to be rejected by her. Romeo and Rosaline, lost in the void of the world’s most iconic romance, what chance does Jughead stand in the face of that kind of fate and challenge it?

Or maybe Betty is Romeo yet to meet Juliet, willing to discard Rosaline for the chance to pursue her fantasy? Pining for Archie, chasing Archie, loving Archie, only to reject Jughead. Betty and Jughead, lost in the void of Riverdale’s most inevitable romance, what chance does he stand. How long will it last?

  
  


“Betty you know I don't do  _ this.”  _ For the first time, Jughead is tripping over his words.

  


“And What is  _ this,  _ Jughead?” She challenged, but not unkindly, “What is it?”

  


Jughead hesitated. 

  


Betty sighs. “Because _ I _ don’t know what it is. You climbed up my window and kissed me, and now we're doing things but we’ve never  _ talked _ about it.”

  


“Because I don't know what the hell I’m doing Betty Cooper! Kissing? Holding hands? I’ve never done this before!”

  


“I was your first kiss?” Betty gasped. 

  


“Irrelevant.”

  


_ “ _ I’m here because I like you. I like being with you.” Betty said, and he shrunk into himself. 

  


“It’s not that simple, Betts.” 

  


“Why not?”

  


He could plainly never tell her. He was never meant to starr in a romantic drama anyways. But she's so honest, so sincere, even when she's crushing him. 

  


“Betty I have never felt for anything what I feel for you. I didn't even know I was capable of it.” 

  


“You’re making yourself sound like a emotionless robot, Jug, that's not who you are. Is that how you think?” 

  


Jughead shrugged, scuffing his worn combat boots. 

  


Betty noticed his discomfort and her voice softened. “You never seemed bothered by this before. Everyone always assumed it was a part of your identity… What made you-”

  


“Aberrant?” 

  


“-Jughead,” she finished. She gave him a funny look. Some would identify it as pity, but Jughead knew that expression well. It wasn't that. 

  


“I never was,” he admitted, “not until you.”

It was true. All of his life he was disinterested in girls, in boys, in sex. It was like that part of himself-if there even was a part of himself that wanted lust, companionship or desire- was muted or barely existed. He knew others thought it was weird. An extra something that alienated him from the rest even more than he already was. Archie was well used to his blank stares when he asked his opinion on this girl or that one. It wasn't something he thought about. It wasn't something that mattered to him. It wasn't who he was. 

  


But now things are different. Now there's Betty. It wouldn't be a case of melodrama, to know it's  _ only _ Betty. There won't be anyone else. Jughead would be unaffected, if there was never anyone else for the rest of his life. 

  


But it's Betty. And to lose her would be emptying, even if he never really had her to begin with. 

Jughead took a deep breath and forced himself to not give in to his desperate urge to break their eye contact, or worse, run far away from Riverdale and never come back. Because after this… 

  


“I-I love you Betty.” 

  


Her eyes widened- they widened a lot actually. “Oh Juggie,” she sighed, and he sighed too, struggling to breathe with the hurt in his chest. Can you die from heartbreak?  Jughead always thought that was overdramatic and would roll his eyes at romance novels and movies where the protagonist died from a broken heart, but now he was not too sure. He thought he might need a doctor. And if he thought he could never resent Archie any more than he does at this moment, he was wrong. For if Archie Andrews put Betty Cooper in a fraction of the pain Jughead was in right now, he may end up buried under Riverdale in the same earth as Jason Blossom.

  


“Yeah, I know.” Jughead forced a laugh, but it was dry and loud and laced with bitterness he didn't want Betty to hear. 

  


Betty sat down on her bed and patted the space beside her. “Talk to me Juggie, you’re being distant or not really distant, but you're not present  _ fully _ or something, I don't know. I’m confused. We used to always talk about everything.” 

  


“When we were ten,” Jughead pointed out. 

  


“You were simpler when we were ten.” Betty said. 

  


“Life is simpler when you're ten,” he countered, but sat next to her anyways, the mattress of the bed dipping underneath him. Their thighs brushed slightly, her body warm and soft and it startled him, how much he liked it, so he moved an inch away. 

  


“My feelings for Archie aren't going to magically go away.” 

  


“Right,” Jughead says flatly. 

  


“But that doesn't mean that I don't have any for you either. You've always been this constant in my life. Of course you mean the world to me. Especially now. Everything I’ve been going through,” she touched his shoulder, making him glance up at her, “ _ we’ve _ been going through. We did it together. I couldn't do any of this without you.” 

  


“You’re making me sound important,” Jughead tried to joke. Betty shook her head at his self-deprecating tone. 

“You are.” She insisted, with her signature smile.  

  


Jughead didn't believe that. Not after his childhood, not after his life of being cast aside and left in the shadows behind Archie and Betty, but suddenly, it was true when she said it. He knew deep down that it has to be true. And yet- 

  


“If Archie asked you out tomorrow…” He couldn't stop himself from asking. 

  


“Juggie, Archie made it very clear that’s not going to happen. If it did…” her words tapered off, eyes looking out the window. The window she would look into every night for a glimpse of Archie. The blinds were down. She turned back to Jughead, conflicted. 

  


“I don't know, I don't think I can make my feelings for him go away after them being there for so long. But I don’t think I want Archie anymore. I don't think he will make me happy.” she said simply. As if this mess of a love triangle- god, Jughead is in a love triangle, what the  _ hell- _  was simple. 

“Besides,” she said with a growing smile, “I have a boyfriend.” 

  


Jughead’s pulse quickened. How bold Betty Cooper could be. How clever. Taking his words and throwing them back at him. Doesn't she know what she could do to him? How easily Jughead Jones’ iconic facade of apathy could crumble because of her? 

  


Nevermind heart on his sleeve, Jughead felt like she was holding his literal heart in her hands. He looked down at them, face flushing and grabbed them with his own and squeezed. 

  


“I thought I loved him, Jug. But he doesn't make me feel the way you do right now. Maybe I don't know what love is.” Betty frowned at that.

  


Jughead could see her concentration reflecting from the furrows of her brows as she thought. Jughead let go of one of her hands to tentatively reach up to her face. He stroked her left cheek lightly, hesitant, making sure it was okay. She blushed a soft pink, the kind of colour artists would use for a sunset piece. Her eyelashes fanned out as she looked up with her blue eyes, and Jughead was hit once again over how strikingly beautiful she is. 

  


“Okay,” he accepted, and meant it. “Okay.”

  


She turns to wrap her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. Jughead's heart went from heavy to light so fast he thought he might faint. 

  


“But I want to love you,” she said, after a moment. 

  


His heart did that flip thing again, and the corners of his mouth twitched up into a small smile, briefly he thought maybe he really _should_ see a doctor. 

“I’m not asking you to, Betts.” 

She shook her head, her golden ponytail swishing behind her as her eyes flickered to her vanity mirror. On the top left side there was an old photograph taken by Mary Andrews of the two of them laughing at Archie, a red blur half out of the shot. Her eyes then drifted to their reflection, a stark contrast of light and dark outfits sitting close on her bed. She turned back to Jughead, pensive. 

“Juggie,” Betty proclaimed, confidently and so sure of herself the corners of her eyes were crinkling. She took his face in her hands, “I  _ will _ love you.” 

  


_ Good _ , Jughead couldn't help but think selfishly. 

He drew her in even closer, pressing her against him, his insides exploding with warmth and she  _ melts _ into his side. 

  


“I know I will,”  she murmured, leaning into his chest. He holds her in his arms, and thinks this is the longest he’s ever held anybody. He wouldn't mind doing it forever.

Eventually, Jughead had to leave. They both knew nobody would enjoy Mrs. Cooper finding the two asleep on the bed curled together, Betty with Jughead's flannel over her shoulders. So he opened the window at three AM, and climbed back down the ladder, after kissing Betty, bleary eyed with sleep, goodnight. He hopped off the final step and lifted the ladder so that he could carry it across the lawn. It was dark and quiet, nothing but the sounds of dried leaves crunching under his feet. Jughead propped the ladder up against the Andrew's house where it belonged and began to climb up again. He has been crashing with Archie for a while now. When he got into Archie's room, he changed into something warmer and got into the air mattress he's been calling his bed. Archie, a very deep sleeper made no twitch. 

He looked at the redheaded boy for a second and wondered why he was so jealous of him all this time. He was the one who blew his chance. That's when it dawned on him.  _Archie_ was Rosaline in this story. In _their_ story. No Archie, no Riverdale mysteries, no crazy parents. Just them. Betty and Jughead. 

He closed his eyes and slept. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Me: Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are gifts from above!!  
> Cheryl: JASON WAS A GIFT FROM ABOVE
> 
> You can follow my Riverdale tumblr @Jugaddict


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